Lost and Found
by PhoenixVenom
Summary: Lately, Ichigo had been feeling, well, odd. As if he had someone constantly near him, almost. He'd first noticed it that day when Uryuu wouldn't stop surreptitiously glancing around him. That day, he'd simply thought that Ishida was being skittish, but lately he hadn't been able to shake the creeping sensation that someone was watching him. - Test drive. Title subject to change.
1. Starting out

A/N: As the summary suggests, this story isn't quite ironed out, yet, and since I only have about three pages written so far, the chapters will be rather short for now. That said, I just wanted to get some of this out, to hopefully get some feedback to fuel the further development of the story. The rating _will_ change, though.

* * *

"Ichigo, come over here a moment," Keigo hollered, and said teenager's head snapped in that direction at the cue, showing other students that he was far from as unapproachable as he had first seemed, Orihime looked on with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. The fact that he had gone from flinching at his friends' touch to this carefree demeanour so quickly made her heart soar, and hope for it to stay that way, so they all may live their lives in happiness and peace from now on. It was the least they deserved, she thought, after all they'd been through, and all they'd done for the world.

Ichigo's state of mind could, in many ways, be seen as a pointer to understanding how the world was faring, at least where total world wide disasters were concerned. In his calm, carefree demeanour, it was clear to see that at least so far as he was concerned, the world was perfectly safe, and the same went for his closest friends and family. The soul reapers were all back in Soul Society, and he didn't get to see them much, but that was okay; it just meant that they were back to their own brand of normality, and busy doing their regular work again, which in most of their cases, since they were all fairly high ranking officers, meant that they had very little business in the world of the living. Even when there was a momentary spike on the monitors detailing Karakura that suggested a powerfull or even highly evolved hollow, there was no one dispatched to take care of it, on the grounds that the residents should be easily able to dispose of it on their own, regardless of rank or power. When the signal all but disappeared nearly immediately after having been picked up, that was the general assumption made by most shinigami, even Kurotsuchi's diligent researchers.

* * *

Happily aware that no one would suspect him of being anything more than a low level hollow at most, with his newly aquired and carefully practiced skills so well honed, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques sauntered away from the closing garganta at a more leisurely pace than most that knew him would have thought him capable of, especially when he was, in all relevant capacities, running away. From what wasn't immediately apparent, but it was enough that he quietly sonidoed away from the town that he had involuntarily appeared near the fringes of the moment he noticed it, still suspended in air as though there existed an invisible glass roof on the world. Once he made it far enough out in the wilderness that he was confident no shinigami would come sauntering past, he found a dry spot that looked comfortable and promptly dropped himself on it, immediately aiming to erase his presence from the air, and blocked all other thoughts from his mind. If he was going to do this, he needed to be able to hide, as much as the idea went against his very nature. And he needed all the practice he could get. Fast.


	2. Discovery

Grimmjow looked down at the sleeping figure. What the hell was he doing here, anyway? No answer was forthcoming, yet he still found himself frozen on the windowsill. The boy was radiating as much reiatsu now, completely unconscious, as he had been earlier that day, cutting down the espada's meal, or what he had at least planned to make his next meal, up until the moment when the substitute in front of him had cut down the lesser hollow in stead. And yes, he might be a little pissed off at him for that, but that alone wouldn't have drawn him here. Honestly, he didn't know what did, but as long as he was feeling less hungry sitting here, he wasn't planning to move any time soon.

* * *

The next day had the lonely espada monitoring Ichigo very closely, though at a distance. He had gotten fairly good at hiding his spiritual pressure, and the substitute had never been good at detecting such anyways, but some of his friends were, and the skinny glasses one constantly looked around him skeptically, yet somehow without making his friends suspicious. Grimmjow could only presume they were stupid, and somehow managed to hide it before. Well, some of it.

The reason the espada was within spotting distance of the group of teenagers in the first place, was, maybe counterproductively, to investigate wether or not his presence in town the previous night had been noticed. If it hadn't, that was good, but if he had been noticed, then he'd have to scram as soon as he got to know. He _really_ didn't fancy an unplanned fight with the substitute soul reaper right about now, and not only because the teen had substituted his dinner last night. His strength could not exactly be said to be at its peak, hence his risky choice to take his hunt into the town. He was hungry, in a way that he hadn't felt since his hollow days. It gnawed at his gut, even now, and he briefly wished for the reishi-dense atmosphere of Hueco Mundo, before he remembered why it was that he'd left.

* * *

A/N: Sinnfully short, I know. Just bear with it for a while.


	3. Contemplating

After that one first night, he had gotten more carefull. First off, Kurosaki may not have noticed him, but that four-eyed friend of his definitely looked suspicious enough for the rest of them that day, and he'd be damned if he let carelessness kill him now, after being able to esca-  
After he'd gotten rid of that really annoying problem.

Grimmjow watched from a distance as the substitute readied himself for bed. Cast in shadows and suppressing his reiatsu so much even _he_ barely felt it, he still felt exposed on his perch on the roof, knowing that a shinigami was nearby. And that was not refering to the one he was watching. He had found out, after nearly a week of investigating and contemplating, that the best time to be absorbing substitute shinigami reiatsu was when the boy in question was fast asleep. That way, he didn't risk exposure. Unless, of course, one of the household's other residents suddenly exhibited some freak ability to sense even the faintest hints something wrong and decided to take him out. Best not to dwell on that thought.

Finally, _finally_ , the Kurosaki boy had gone to bed, and Grimmjow slowly counted down the ten minutes he had given himself to wait for him to actually fall asleep. The deathly still figure didn't show any of his internal aggitation on the outside, but the moment he permitted himself to move, the relief could have been palpable, had there been anyone around to feel it. He first stood in the air a little distance away from the bedroom window of one Ichigo Kurosaki, to verify the fact of him being asleep, then carefully settled himself on the windowsill, wrapping around himself what he thought must be his single most convenient invention, making him almost impossible to spot, even for the spiritually aware, or other hollows. It wore on his reserves a little, so he didn't dare use it too much when he was by himself, considering his less than pristine health lately, but he daren't not use it when he was stationed like this, so out in the open and potentially in anyone's line of sight. A soundless sigh escaped the former espada as he leaned back into the window frame to settle in more comfortably for the night, and as he felt the by now familiar sensation of the shinigami's reiatsu washing over him and soothing his heart, or sate his hunger, the way he percieved it. It wasn't perfect - the presence of the soul on the other side of the glass didn't really quite quell his hunger, besides the fact that he missed having something to bite into.

One thing, at least, he had to give to the Karakura killer team: they sure were efficient. The town was almost _too_ clean, with barely a hollow lasting five minutes out of a garganta. Hardly anyone even dared to try anymore, despite the allure of some very tempting prizes indeed. It was all very inconvenient for Grimmjow but for as long as he wasn't found out, and could keep up this charade, at least he wouldn't have to starve. Exactly how much he needed to eat wasn't quite clear to him anyway, but the insistant gnawing sensation in his gut, right where he shouldn't be able to feel anything, told him that he definitely needded _something_. Whatever it might be. Glancing in the window at his unknowing donor, he wondered if the boy would notice it if he tried collecting some of the reiatsu of his that would naturally have escaped in other directions. The boy _was_ rather dense… Deciding it was worth the risk, Grimmjow slowly and very carefully started to draw the reiatsu towards himself, as well as extremely carefull not to touch anything that didn't pour out of the unconscious boy on its own accord. That way, if anyone asked, he'd never actually touched him. That was important, for some reason. Self preservation, he supposed.

Soon, his reiatsu-collecting felt easier just as he better got the hang of it, and he could relax a little without fear of slipping up. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep, calm breaths, before opening them again and gazing up at the endless starry skies; dark, yet bright. Such a different view from Hueco Mundo, yet he couldn't say he missed that difference, or the life that it held. After all, it was _here_ that there was actual, real _life_. He was lonely, though. These nightly visits didn't really provide him with company of any real sort, and he had too much self preservation to seek that out anywhere in the world of the living. A soft sigh escaped him. Now, the long wait began.


	4. Slipping

As dawn broke and humans started to stirr in their homes, one sleepless arrancar slowly stirred, then stretched, preparing himself to leave before the alarm clock barely a meter away went off. As confident as he was in his ability to hide, he didn't want to be around when the teenage boy awoke. The ruckus of the house alone was enough of a deterrent. Slinking away, and shedding his protective cloak as soon as he was out of sight from the Kurosaki home, the lone arrancar braced himself for yet another day of hiding.

Lately, Ichigo had been feeling, well, odd. As if he had someone constantly hanging around him, almost. He'd first noticed it that day when Uryuu wouldn't stop surreptitiously glancing around him. Though if he was being honest with himself, he'd probably noticed it - at least suconsciously - before that, since some time the day before, actually. That day, he'd simply thought that Ishida was being skittish, but lately, he hadn't been able to shake the creeping sensation that someone was watching him. Strangely enough, it didn't make him feel so on edge anymore. Just kind of… Watched. Okay, so that sounded bad, but it really wasn't, so much, and anyway, he didn't feel like there was any immediate danger. And, despite his generally shitty ability to sense basically anything, that gut feeling he had that said "danger" or "no danger" was pretty damn reliable.

Curiously, he looked down through the open window at the frowning figure of a sleeping boy, bleached of all colour by the moonlight washing over him as he slept. It wasn't the first time that the window had been open, but it was the first time Grimmjow had felt the need to lean innwards through it, for some obscure reason that his mind refused to divulge. It was true that he believed himself invisible to just about anyone, but doubt affected even him when it came down to noticing someone so very close. Kurosaki lay so still, if it hadn't been for the very, _very_ faint sound of his breathing, Grimmjow might actually have believed him to be dead, with the almost ethereal look that the moonlight gave him. Almost breathless, the arrancar dared to lean a little bit further over the edge, coming almost dangerously close to overbalancing and topling inside.

For the third night in a row, Grimmjow sat perched on the windowsill of Ichigo's bedroom. Watching the boy sleep was becoming a habit, even though he didn't technically need to look at him in order to collect his reiatsu. Additionally, he knew - intellectually, at least - that getting any closer than he had been to begin with was a bad idea, and unnecessary, besides, but it couldn't quite stop him from poking his nose through the open window that first time, and now climbing to his perch on the sill, toes curled around the edges for stability. From a distance, the only thing that could have made him look any more like a cat, was for him to have a tail, and curl it around his feet, or maybe flicking it from side to side. That is, if anyone at a distance had been able to see him. Luckily for the arrancar, that was not the case. In fact, the more time he spent close to Kurosaki, the better he got at his hiding technique, at the same time he became more comfortable with using it, since the otherwise draining technique only made a small dent in the amount of reiatsu he was able to collect from the unconscious boy. The constant stream of reiatsu did make it harder for him to conceal his presence, though. It still slightly baffled Grimmjow; how a single human, and an unconscious one, at that, was able to effortlessly exude more power than what an entire regular hollow was comprised of, without even _noticing_. It still wasn't enough to silence his hunger, though; it was never _enough_ , and the awareness of it haunted him, in the long, lonely days, when he could never fall asleep. And at night it was too dangerous to.  
For now, he silenced his own doubts in favour of soaking in the pale blue energy emanating from the room to which he balanced on the precipice of. While he knew that getting closer was dangerous, unnecessary risk taking, he was inevitably drawn close anyway, entranced as he felt the boy's reiatsu swirl towards him, almost as if drawn in by a magnet. It was fascinating and unnerving in equal measures, and something he would have enquired about had he had someone to ask.


End file.
